


How It Ends

by AppoApples



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29596242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppoApples/pseuds/AppoApples
Summary: They died together, and they woke up pissed. Sweeping in on the wings of chaos, little Obi-Wan finds himself with a new Master. Older Obi-Wan delves deeper into Mandalorian culture than he expected. And Satine may very well be pressed to violence to protect those she loves. T/M rating.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Comments: 25
Kudos: 138





	1. Moulin Rouge

Dyslexia: Missing words, misspellings ahead because the author has a Language Disability.

* * *

Inspiration: **_Moulin Rouge_** in which Ewan’s lover is named Satine. So please picture Satine as Nicole Kidman. Also I wanted to try my hand at two Obi-Wans.

**Prelude**

For those of you who do not know, the  _ Moulin Rouge _ (2001), in which Ewan McGregor stars, the story begins with telling you that Satine dies at the End. 

This is not a fix-it, it’s a romance and a sci-fi, and in this story, they die in the Beginning ;D

**Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman as Satine**

Satine spoke his name as he held her close, confusion and worry, succumbing to denial as she said, “I-I- I'm dying; I'm so sorry”

He was shaking, there was nothing but her, there could be nothing but her.

They were in love.

Love conquered everything.

_ All you need is Love. _

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he tried to call her back to him, if by strength of will, by the force of his love, he could be with her, always. 

“You'll be all right, you'll be all right,” he said to her as they knelt there on the stage, the curtains drawn, and they were lost in a sea of red and white rose petals, the rest of the world falling away.

In her blue eyes, he saw the truth that he was not ready to face but he could not deny her when she asked for him to hold her.

“I love you,” he said, as if that were the truth that could set them free from this nightmare.

But she had been right from the beginning, he was a fool.

Satine smiled up at him, her voice weak as she said, “You've got to go on.”

He shook his head, bringing her tight to him, “I can't go on without you.”

Her expression softened, “You've got so much to give, tell your story.”

“No,” he said as her strength seeped away.

But she fought for him even as she struggled to breathe, “Yes, promise me, promise me.”

“No,” he answered, not to her demand but to the distance growing in her eyes as she began to let go.

Her life, his love, slipping away from them.

Satine’s final words on this earth were, “Yes, that way, I'll always be with you.”

* * *

**Prologue**

“No. It can't be.”

Maul,  _ Darth Maul _ , who Obi-Wan had cut in half, smiled down at him from the Mandalorian throne with Malice, “We meet again, Kenobi.”

His mind spun as his gaze fell on the woman who had held his heart from the beginning.

He would have given her everything if she had simply asked it of him, but she never had.

Maul’s smile looked more like a grimace as he drawled, “Your noble flaw is a weakness shared by you… and your Duchess.”

Obi-Wan knew how this ended, to love was to lose.

He knew that, had always known that.

Maul had taken Qui-Gon from him, had set his entire into motion where his choices were made out of debt he could never pay.

He was a Jedi, his own heart didn’t matter, even if it felt as if it might cease beating as Satine clawed at her neck, fighting for breath.

“You should have chosen the Dark Side, Master Jedi.”

Obi-Wan could not stop the flare of rage. When first they met, he had been but a Padawan still under his Master’s wing.

Only killing Maul had earned Obi-Wan his Knighthood, only completing his promise to Qui-Gon, another death, had Obi-Wan earned the rank of Master.

Maul’s voice was smug as he said, “Your emotions betray you. Your fear, and yes, your anger. Let your anger deepen your hatred.”

Obi-Wan could not deny those emotions, but they did not rule him even as he felt the arms of death closing in around him.

He knew how this story ended.

“Don't listen to him, Obi…” Satine choked.

“Quiet,” Maul said, tightening his fist.

Hope, stupid and foolish, but a part of him still searched for a way out, his words were certain as he spoke, attempting to hide from the Sith how very much Satine meant to him, “You can kill me but you will never destroy me. It takes strength to resist the Dark Side. Only the weak embrace it.”

Maul sneered at him, “It is more powerful than you know.”

Even on his knees, Obi-Wan raised his chin, “And those who oppose it are more powerful than you'll ever be.”

Maul just stared at him, so he went on. Hoping to give time for a miracle, knowing that had been a fool to come alone. Anakin would have come if he had but asked.

But just like Satine, he hadn’t.

“I know where you're from,” Obi-Wan said, “I've been to your village. I know the decision to join the Dark Side wasn't yours. The Nightsisters made it for you.”

“Silence!” Maul roared. “You think you know me? It was I who languished for years thinking of nothing but you. Nothing but this moment.”

Obi-Wan almost made a quip then, but Satine’s breaths were becoming more shallow by the moment.

“And now the perfect tool for my vengeance is in front of us. I never planned on killing you. But I will make you share my pain, Kenobi.”

A sabre of night and starlight ignited and Maul pulled her onto the blade.

He went to her, his soul dying as he was allowed to go to her, “Satine.”

Obi-Wan had neither the words nor the time to express how deeply he loved her, how she had rewritten his world and had cherished her always, no matter the distance between them.

He knew that her death would do the same, that he would never be able to forget her.

Never truly let her go.

Satine reached up a hand to touch his cheek as he pulled her closer, “Remember, my dear Obi-Wan… I've loved you always. And I always will.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head to her, their foreheads touching as she became one with the Force.

Closing his eyes, he felt his own story end.

* * *

Chapter 1 - Knowing How it Ended  


In death he saw everything, how the war ended, how the Jedi fell, how Anakin succumbed to the darkness, and a single question was posed to him by the Force.

_ If you knew how it ended, would you live through it again? _

Obi-Wan didn’t know, truthfully, because there was a great deal he would have done,  _ had done _ , for his people, and yet more he might have done for Anakin.

But he remembered the weight of Satine in his arms.

And the rest fell away, they had been lovers once but that’s not what he held onto, those weren’t the moments that made him doubt his path as a Jedi Knight.

No, for the love in her eyes, for the love in his heart.

To have lived and to have known her, there was only one answer.

_ What is your answer, Master Jedi? _ The Force asked.

“The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return,” he answered to the universe he had fallen into when Maul had cut him in half.

Unlike Maul, Obi-Wan had neither the will or inclination to survive such a thing.

_ Even knowing how it was going to end? _ The Force asked.

Satine appeared before him reaching for his hand, and he smiled, reaching for her hand in turn, “Until the end of time.”

Satine’s smile remade his heart, “I will always love you.”

_ So be it, _ the Force declared before unceremoniously shoving them back into reality.

* * *

Duchess Satine Kryze had a few choice words for being murdered by an undead Sith Lord, watching Obi-Wan die, then being thrown back into reality at the feet of another Sith Lord.

None of the words were proper for her station.

Though, she supposed, given her death and dethronement, maybe the title of Duchess didn’t belong to her.

Regardless, Satine had only a moment to look up into Obi-Wan’s beautiful blue eyes, before he kicked at the Count leaning over them.

She scrambled back from the sound of lightsabers igniting around her. As she got to her feet, only then did she feel the snow covering her boats, the cold tugging at her.

Satine pressed her hand to her centre where the Darksabre had pierced her.

_ What is happening? _

But, resurrection aside, Obi-Wan was duelling Count Dooku.

Both their sabres were blue and they moved like the wind, as if they were a piece of this wintry landscape, a piece of clear sky given human form.

Dooku, oddly, wasn’t pressing the attack, but a woman with white hair with two sabres flew at Obi-Wan from the side.

At first Satine thought it was Asajj Ventress, who she had seen only in recording, however, that notion was dispelled as Obi-Wan easily, too easily, disarmed her.

“Stop!” Dooku yelled, as Obi-Wan crushed the girl’s lightsabres, the small explosions from the kyber shattering contained in the Force grip Obi-Wan used.

She had seen her Obi-Wan use his gifts before, but today was different.

But of course, today, they had both died and come back to life in a different place, standing before the leader of Separatist faction.

Obi-Wan danced back, guarding her, she realized, even as she saw that there were other Jedi, or Sith, though given the light colouring of the robes, they were likely Jedi.

Were they traitors?

And where were they? She couldn’t place this cliffside but the distant mountain range looked vaguely familiar.

“Enough!” Dooku called again, “We are not enemies.”

Satine reached out a hand, placing it on the centre of Obi-Wan’s back. He shuddered, but he seemed to settle, his breathing easing.

It was her only clue as to how scared or angry he had been when they ‘appeared’.

“Is that so, Count Dooku?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice scathing.

_ Oh, he is definitely pissed. _

“Who the karking hells are you!?” the girl whose sabres Obi-Wan had dispensed with screamed at them, or more specifically, Obi-Wan.

_ “Padawan!” _ Dooku bit out sharply, glaring at the girl, even as he lowered his sabre and turned his other palm out toward Obi-Wan in a gesture of peace, “We mean you no harm.”

Obi-Wan didn’t move.

Satine knew she would be lessening his mobility, but she was freezing, and confused, and she needed some grounding. She did the boldest thing she had ever dared with Obi-Wan in public. She stepped to his side, wrapping her arm around his slim waist.

He didn’t discourage her, in fact, he wrapped his free arm around her in turn, pulling her closer but turning his body so she was still more behind him as he held up his sabre in defence. She could see his face now, and he was searching the faces of the group in front of him.

Including Dooku, there were twelve Jedi, which was a sizable amount by any measure. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to recognize any of them but for Dooku.

Dooku spoke to him as if speaking to a wild animal, “We felt you in the Force, and then you appeared. Do you know how you came to be here, brother?”

Obi-Wan frowned at him, “You’re a Jedi Knight?”

Dooku nodded, “You called me Count, I am a Jedi Master, I can bear no other title. Where are you from?”

Obi-Wan didn’t answer that as he asked, “Where are we?”

“When are we?” Satine added, Dooku’s hair was peppered black, younger than the figure she knew.

“We are on Galidraan,” Dooku said.

She and Obi-Wan tensed as one as if the Would-Be-Sith had struck them with a vibro blade.

Obi-Wan looked up the horizon, searching for threats.

“Obi-Wan,” Satine said, her fear and dread colouring the words with meaning.

Galidraan had been the beginning of the end for her people. 

Obi-Wan extinguished his blade and Dooku immediately did the same.

“Everyone, hold on,” Obi-Wan called to the group as he pulled her to his armoured chest, she didn’t argue, just wrapped both her arms around him.

She admitted to herself that she liked Obi-Wan in Mandalorian armour even as he used the Force to pull on the snow beneath their feet and brought them all sliding down the cliffside.

Satine had just enough time to see over Obi-Wan’s shoulder to a Mandalorian warrior above them on the mountain side who had been sighting them in their scopes.

Only for their supposed enemy to watch them toss themselves off a cliff.

Was it really any wonder why she loved Obi-Wan?

Obi-Wan had them rolling in the snow and it was like being caught in a snow maker, but his rolling kept them from being buried.

Once it finally stopped, Obi-Wan was pulling her to her feet and found herself stumbling in the deep snow while her world was still spinning.

The other Jedi hadn’t been so successful, as they dug their way out from the snow.

The Padawan girl popped out of the cursing and spitting mad.

Count-  _ Master _ Dooku, of course, had not been caught beneath the snow, though he looked a bit ruffled, snapped, “Padawan Vosa, you will hold your tongue.”

The girl swallowed hard, and nodded tursely.

“Take cover,” Obi-Wan told them as he pressed them under the shelter of trees.

Spotting a dark shape in the snow, Satine reached for Obi-Wan’s stolen helmet that had travelled with them as the Jedi took shelter under the trees as well.

“Everyone accounted for?” Obi-Wan asked.

Dooku nodded, the others, aside from Vosa, looked utterly shellshocked. He asked, “Who are you and why did you just send off the cliff?”

“I won’t apologize for saving your lives,” Obi-Wan said in turn.

“Save our lives from what?” one of the Jedi asked.

Satine was the Duchess of Mandalore, she knew very well what happened to her, had studied it, one of the defining conflicts between her and Obi-Wan’s peoples.

So it was she who answered for Obi-Wan, “Do you honestly mean to tell me you don’t know how much danger you’ve put yourselves in?”

Dooku looked down his nose at her, “Do you think it is normal for this many Jedi Knights to attend a single mission?”

Anger tightened her gut as she shoved Obi-Wan’s red helmet at him as she faced off with insufferable embodiment of self-assured arrogance. “I think you are fools,” she growled, knowing that more than half of these Jedi hadn’t returned to the Temple. “Why would you  _ ever _ involve yourselves in Mandalorian business? Did you honestly believe any true Mandalorian would ask for your help? That any warrior would ever ask  _ your _ people to fight their battles for them?”

Dooku’s mouth thinned, eyes narrowing, “Do not presume-”

“Presume what? That you must all be moronic enough to not realize this was a trap? That you’re being used by the very terrorists you thought you were here to destroy?”

“How do you know-”

But her blood was boiling, she had been overthrown by the very organization these people were about to empower. The power that had torn her system, had broken her own family, had ruined everything she had worked so hard for.

To give her people a purpose and future that went beyond war and destruction.

“Why are you here!?” she demanded.

“Satine,” Obi-Wan warned, more likely her volume than her words that echoed in the valley.

Dooku stared at her, “The Senate-”

“The Senate? Right, I forgot, the famed Jedi Order, in all their wisdom, are  _ incapable _ of thinking for themselves. You’re about to start a system wide civil war and bring incomprehensible suffering to millions, if not billions. But you don’t care, do you? Because you’re nothing but the Republic’s dogs, turning against your own morals and religion to bow to a corrupt government you left to rot and fester!”

Dooku stared at her with dark brown eyes, but she had moment to realize what she had said, and she spun to look behind her, “Obi-Wan, I didn’t mean-”

He held a hand, his face soft with understanding and regret, “It’s alright, Satine, because you’re right. The Jedi Order failed their mandate, and has been failing for a long time now. And the galaxy has paid the price for that failing. Time and time again, the Order has sided with the Senate, over the people, over the Force. It’s why the Sith won in the end.”

“What are you talking about?” one of the Jedi demanded, “The Sith? The Sith are long dead.”

She turned to look at the man, but she saw the calculating look on Dooku’s face.

Obi-Wan huffed, “Not now. Dooku, get your people out of here and go home, I’ll sort out this mess.”

Satine looked at him and warned, “Obi-Wan Kenobi, what are you planning?”

He reached out a hand to touch her cheek, “Stay alive, Satine, and I’ll do the same.”

He put on his helmet and activated his jet-pack, he had a moment of hesitation in adjustment, then he was soaring up the cliffside like a professional.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Dooku asked, his voice full of shock, “Qui-Gon’s Padawan?”

Satine didn’t even pretend like she was entertaining answering that question, “Where is your ship, Dooku? Or was it your intention to start a war?”

He frowned at her, “Why would our answering a plea for help start a war?”

She glared at him, “You know why.”

“I want you to spell it out for us,” he said in turn, the other Jedi looking lost even in their trained reserve.

“The terrorist organization you were here to destroy were the ones to trick the Senate and have pointed you at another faction of Mandalorian warriors who intended to put an end to their extremism.”

Dooku looked at her for a long moment before stating, “Very well, we will leave Mandalore to take care of its own business. For you are correct, our people have a decidedly unpleasant history, and if there is any confusion for our reasons of involvement, then we would be prone to inflaming the situation further.”

“Master!” the girl nearly screamed, “They are lying!”

Dooku turned on her, “Komari, you have proved yourself ill suited for knighthood. I had hoped you would have gained control over your emotions over the years, but despite my best efforts, you remain undisciplined and incapable of adapting to diplomatically sensitive matters. You’ve put yourself and your company in danger because you could not hold your temper.”

Komari’s expression fell, “Please, Master, I didn’t mean-”

“You attacked Kenobi with the intent to kill,” Dooku pressed, “a fellow Jedi.”

“He tried to kill  _ you! _ ” she exclaimed, outraged and panicked.

“No, he was not, he was defending his charge, and that you could not sense his Light within the Force speaks more prominently of my failure to train you than nearly anything else.”

She gaped at him, her eyes filling with tears, “Master Dooku-”

Something about the way she said that creeped Satine out, and she didn’t miss the moment of disgust that flashed across Dooku’s features.

Had the Padawan fallen for her own Master?

Knowing Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as she had, she knew the type of violation that was. There was a sacred trust between Padawans and Masters, something that transcended the bond between a child and their parent, a partnership between generations. A teacher who was expected to give all and a Padawan who was expected to trust.

Familiar like bonds sometimes happen, there was certainly love and admiration for both parties, but that was different than…

“Master Dooku,” Satine cut in, her voice hard, “Are we to stand in the cold until nightfall or did you mean what you said about withdrawing your involvement in this conflict?”

Dooku nodded, turning his back and leading them through the forest.

Komari fell far behind, and the other Jedi gave Dooku pitying looks that he ignored as he passed through them.

If she didn’t know what he became, she might have pitied him as well.

But she was far more concerned with the trouble Obi-Wan was undoubtedly getting himself in.

* * *

Obi-Wan was reeling, he died, she died, now he was going to meet another hostile organization of Mandalorians.

He hadn’t been bad at that until the Sith had stuck their nose in it.

How did Maul even survive?

Better question, why did Obi-Wan keep assuming he was dead?

The jetpack was kind of fun, he had to admit, even the armour gave him a certain amount of security.

But then, it was beskar.

Or maybe Cody was finally rubbing off on him.

He saw a familiar suit of armour darting through the trees and landed in clear view.

Jango Fett came to an abrupt stop, “Who are you?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he said without taking off his helmet.

“Are you with the Watch?” He asked, his blaster in his hand but not pointed, he didn’t need to, he was fast enough to outshoot almost anyone else.

“I’m not. I’m here to help you. Through the Governor of Galidraan, Death Watch has pleaded for the Senate’s aid and the Senate answered with a group of Jedi. The attempt was to frame you and yours as the terrorist organization. I intercepted the Jedi and they are retreating.”

Jango stilled, “Are you insane!? We’re all dead! The Jedi will never leave us be now that you killed-”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “No, no one died, they are just leaving.”

“How?” Jango demanded, “How did you get them to leave?”

“I told them the truth.”

Jango fell quiet.

“What’s your name?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Fett,” he answered, “Jango Fett.”

“I would like to join you against the Watch.”

“Why help a stranger?” Jango asked, voice thick with suspicion.

Here, Obi-Wan switched out of Basic, “Because Death Watch is bad for Mandalore.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t see Jango’s smile but he heard it in his next words, “Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur.”

_ Today is a good day for someone else to die. _

Obi-Wan repeated the sentiment, though, with a slight sense of unease, as he had died today.

And the Force had shown him the future, not all the why’s or players, but he had seen the Temple in ruin and Anakin looking at him with Maul’s eyes.

* * *

Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi felt as if everything was slipping away, if he could make them understand that he was earnest in his apology, “I wish to tell all the Jedi Masters that I feel genuine remorse for my decision. It felt right at the time, but I've come to see how wrong it was. I want nothing more than to have back what I once had. I want to be a Padawan. I want to be a Jedi.”

“Have again what you had, you cannot," Yoda said. “Different you are. Different is Qui-Gon. Every moment makes you so. Every decision a cost it has.”

He heard people walking into the High Council room, but he couldn’t turn away from the people deciding his face.

Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up, "Obi-Wan, you have violated not only the trust of Qui-Gon, but the trust of the Council. You seem not to recognize this." 

"But I do!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "I take responsibility for it and I'm sorry for it." 

"You are thirteen years old, Obi-Wan. You are not a child," Mace Windu said with a frown, he didn’t look at the people who had entered either. "Why do you speak as one? Sorry does not make the offence disappear. You interfered in the internal affairs of a planet without official Jedi approval. You defied the order of your Master. A Master depends on the loyalty of the Padawan, just as the Padawan depends on the Master. If that trust is broken, the bond shatters.” 

The sting of Mace's words made Obi-Wan wince. He did not expect the Council to be so severe. He couldn't look at Qui-Gon.* (Watson)

“You’re full of banthashite, Mace,” a voice said into the heavy silence.

Obi-Wan spun and found a Mandalorian dressed in red and black armour with a lightsabre hilt at his side. Beside him stood a beautiful woman with startling blue eyes, and then Master Dooku.

Mace stiffened looking up at the new arrivals, “This is Jedi business, Mando.”

“Funny,” the Mandalorian said, “Because it sounded like you were trying to disown the boy for the very reason you sent him into a warzone in the first place.”

Qui-Gon’s shoulders stiffened, “That’s not why we were sent into conflict.”

“No, I’m sorry, you are correct. You sent Tahl there into a warzone on her own. A conflict that resulted in her losing her vision and nearly her life,” the Mandalorian said with far too much familiarity.

Qui-Gon’s voice lowered, “That’s no place for a Padawan-”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have left him there, and as to whether thirteen is the legal age of adulthood or not he was your charge, Master Jinn.”

Obi-Wan’s breath caught, and he flinched away from Qui-Gon whose presence in the Force spiked.

“I ordered him to come with me.”

“Yes,” the stranger said, “and he disobeyed because he is a stubborn teenager like most males his age.”

The woman spoke, “And isn’t his staying to fight with a child army, whose elders were trying to annihilate them, exactly what you train your Knights to do?”

Yoda spoke, “War, place for Padawans to be without their Masters, it is not. Trained our Knights are, but prolonged warfare, place of the Jedi it is not.”

The Mandalorian let out a sound that might have been a laugh, but it was so terribly bitter it hurt to hear it, and he almost spat the word, “Liar.”

Yoda frowned at him, “Speak of what you do not know, you do.”

“I don’t know?” the Mandalorian repeated, a thread of rage in his voice, “You knighted my Padawan years early so he could fight for you, you sent my  _ grand _ padawan to the frontlines and made her a commanding officer of an entire battalion. Yet you dare to lecture  _ me _ on what you are and aren’t willing to expose our young to?”

“Who are you?” Mace demanded. “What right do you have to speak among us?”

The man reached up to take his helmet and said, “I am Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, High Council Member of the Jedi Order, and High General of the Grand Army of the Republic. A rank you promoted me to  _ because _ of my experience and early exposure to war on Melida/Daan and all the asinine missions you sent Qui-Gon and I on.”

Obi-Wan could only gape.

_ Master _ Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The idea of him becoming a Master and a  _ Council _ member was almost more surprising than the idea of time travel.

Which, time travel.

Time travel?

If this was a joke, it was weird.

“Asinine missions?” Tahl asked, a smile in her voice.

The Mandalorian, no,  _ himself _ , from the  _ future _ , shook his head, “This Council has had severe lapses in judgement over the decades, and yes, I do consider myself a part of that. However, Dooku was right when he left the Order,  _ why _ did you think it was a good idea to send Qui-Gon after a Sith Lord when he couldn’t even stop Xanatos, his own fallen Padawan? Mace, or even Dooku, would have been a wiser choice.”

There was a resounding silence at this statement.

“Perhaps,” Master Tahl said in an amused tone, “We should backtrack to how you managed to time travel?”

Obi-Wan’s Mandalorian, adult, Master Jedi counterpoint, merely shrugged. 

The woman, however, answered, “Obi-Wan and I were killed by a Sith Lord, the same one who killed Master Jinn, I remember seeing the fate of my people, my planet, and Force asked me if I would relive it, even knowing how it ends. I said yes and Obi-Wan said yes, and the Force dropped us at Count Dooku’s feet, averting one of the Jedi Order’s most colossal mistakes in a hundred years.”

Obi-Wan felt as if everything was happening too fast, it was too much information.

The Sith were real? That’s how he was going to die? That’s how Master Qui-Gon was going to die?

How could a Council Member, any Council Member sound so bitter about the Jedi Order? 

And what war had he been involved in to get a military rank? Obi-Wan hadn’t even known the Republic had a  _ Grand _ army.

“Dooku, a Count he is not,” Yoda said into the deepening tension.

“Dooku became one of the Lost after Qui-Gon’s death. I never blamed this Council or the Order for Qui-Gon’s death, only myself as I had still been his Padawan at the time. But seeing this today, remembering this-” the Master gestured to him standing there awkwardly afraid that this older version of himself would do something that would incline Qui-Gon to not take him back, “I see how you would condemn compassion in favour of following the rules. You made me believe that the only path to becoming a great Jedi was to follow the rules. But you valued Qui-Gon for the opposite reason, even when he infuriates you, you value him. Yet you punished and humiliated me for doing what I felt was right.”

The Master Jedi in Mandalorian armour looked at Qui-Gon, “What did you think, that I stayed to fight because I enjoyed living in an underground tunnel while getting bombs dropped on us, that I enjoyed watching my peers dying and starving around me? That I enjoyed killing?”

“You stayed because you fell in love, you stayed because of attachment,” Qui-Gon answered.

The bearded man shook his head, “Perhaps I did, and I learned what the Order does not teach you, does not explain that outside our community, affection and loyalty are fickle, that blood and family matter. As soon as Cesai died, I learned that no matter my intentions, no matter what I sacrificed or gave to them that I would never truly be a part of them. I had no way of knowing that I wasn’t just giving up the path to knighthood, but my community. You taught us that the Jedi are a part of the Republic, that we are a part of all people within our borders. But that is not how we are seen nor how we are treated.”

“So you think your regrets excuse your actions?” Qui-Gon asked, sounding defensive.

And if he could, he would have shut his older self up, because he could not see how this was helping him.

“No,” his incarnation said to Qui-Gon, “It is an explanation for why it was  _ your _ responsibility, the Order’s responsibility, to not let a Padawan go without a lifeline. Yes, you answered when I called, and I am grateful for that. But I cannot stomach the hurt and embarrassment you had me swallow this day to assuage your egos and hurt pride that your authority dare be challenged. Not when you elected me to the Council for those same skills, not when you gave me the lives of millions of soldiers and asked me to wage war for a reason I did not agree with.”

“If you’re so bitter,” Mace asked, “Why come back?”

The Mandalorian smiled, “I came back to hand in my resignation and I came back to assist in your current crisis, but mostly, I came back to ask myself a question.”

Obi-Wan’s own blue eyes reflected back at him from an older face, as the Mandalorian came to stand before him, “The Sith will rise again, the Senate will decay further, the Jedi Order will fall, and everyone you ever loved or cared for will be taken from you. Do you truly still wish to be a Jedi Knight?”

Obi-Wan felt himself go pale at that grim reality spoken so directly from this person that might have been him.

He wasn’t completely sold on the whole time travel idea, but he saw this man in the Force, felt their kinship, knew that the words he spoke were true.

He swallowed hard and answered, “Yes.”

“Why?” the Mandalorian asked, “Why? Everything good in your life, Obi-Wan, is taken from you. Knowing how it all ends, how can you still want to be one of them?”

“Because you’re wrong,” he said, his heart thundering in his chest as everyone watched him intently.

The Mandalorian arched a single brow at him.

So Obi-Wan repeated, “You’re wrong. I couldn’t have lost everything, you didn’t lose  _ everything _ . You still have the Force, no matter what happens, you always have that. And you’re wrong about what I learned on Melida/Daan, yes, they turned on me, but that didn’t make me want to stop helping them. I don’t want to settle down, I don’t want to belong to one people, I want to help as many people as I can no matter what the personal cost. It doesn’t matter if I’m happy, or content, and whatever happened to the Order, no matter what evil arises; I know the galaxy is better with the Jedi. The galaxy needs people who put others before themselves.

“And that’s why I want to be a Jedi Knight, because however it ends, I want to know I died doing the best I could for others and not myself. Because in the end I don’t matter. I’m just one person, a part of something bigger.”

His older self stared down at him and said, “The Force will always be with you, whether you are with the Order or not.”

Obi-Wan gave into the need to wipe his sweaty hands on his robes and struggled to give his anxiety to the Force, “I know but…” he had to pause to gather his thoughts, to say exactly what he meant. “No people is perfect or always right, no matter their intentions, but the Order is my home, they are the ones who taught me to speak with the Force. They are my family, and I never wanted to abandon them, I just couldn’t turn my back on those who were suffering either. Qui-Gon had to take Tahl back to the Temple but they didn’t need me for that. I just wanted to help.”

Master Tahl spoke, “Had I not been dying, I would have chosen to stay. In fact, it’s why I got hurt, the Council ordered me back and I delayed. In doing so, I put Qui-Gon and his Padawan at risk, I put whoever the Council would have sent to rescue me at risk. We shouldn’t punish Obi-Wan for that, he is a young enough Padawan that he should have never been exposed to that to begin with.”

Mace shook his head, “Enough, Padawan Kenobi has not been exiled, whether Qui-Gon takes him back is his choice to make. Now is the time to discuss our time travellers, how the Order falls, who the Sith are, and what exactly happened on Galidraan.”

Obi-Wan was grateful the attention was taken off him as Master Dooku began his tale, beginning with the disturbance in the Force, the materialisation of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, and ending with his decision that his current Padawan, Komari Vosa, was ultimately unfit to take the Knight Trials.

“You should have told us first, or before us so we might have spoken with her,” Mace said with disapproval.

“She tried to kill another Jedi,” Dooku said.

“Who attacked you,” Mace argued.

“In my time, she became a member of a Dark Sider cult,” Master Kenobi remarked.

Mace actually put his head in his hands, and Obi-Wan couldn’t blame him.

“How many Sith are there?” Sifo-Dyas asked.

Master Kenobi shook his head, “I only know of three, Darth Maul, Count Dooku, and Darth Sidious. Regrettably, we never discovered who Darth Sidious was, only that he was both Darth Maul and Dooku’s Master.”

Everyone looked at Master Dooku who frowned and asked, “You’re telling me I join the people who killed my Padawan?”

Master Kenobi smiled at him sadly, “You believed us corrupt and when the Council was unwilling to change, you changed. Like I said, you blamed the Council for Qui-Gon’s death.”

“I would appreciate, Kenobi,” Qui-Gon said through his teeth, “That you cease speaking of me as if I’m not standing right beside you.”

“Why should I do that?” Master Kenobi asked, “When last we stood in this chamber you denounced me so you could take on another Padawan. You, the Great Maverick who rarely did as anyone told you, lectured me at age thirteen about not abiding your commands only for you to deny me the common courtesy of graduating me properly before taking another apprentice.”

Qui-Gon stared at him, “I-”

“Yes,” Master Kenobi interrupted, “there were mitigating circumstances. But my younger counterpart may stay with you, I will not. I died today, I currently lack the patience to tip-toe around your pride, Master.”

Qui-Gon glowered at him.

Duchess Satine asked, “Why is the Temple so hot? Is your cooling system down?”

“Someone hacked our system,” Tahl said.

“It’s Xanatos,” Master Kenobi said, “He put the relics in the energy core so when you reset the power to reset the cooling system the Temple will blow up.”

Everyone froze.

Qui-Gon asked, “You couldn’t have led with that?”

“My apologies, I was distracted by your bullying the thirteen year old you just pulled out of a civil war.”

Even Obi-Wan winced at that phrasing.

Tahl let out a short laugh, “He’s right to be upset with you, Qui-Gon, Council members. Obi-Wan hasn’t turned to the Dark Side yet Xanatos is attempting to bomb the Temple.”

Qui-Gon rubbed his face, “This is why I didn’t want another Padawan to begin with, it isn’t them, it’s me.”

Duchess Satine smiled at him, “Dooku becomes a Sith Lord and starts a galactic civil war. Besides, Obi-Wan makes up for a thousand mere Dark Siders.”

Dooku’s expression made Obi-Wan suddenly grateful he was not him.

Better to be to join the Agricorps than to learn he had been responsible for a  _ galactic _ civil war.

But then, looking at his older self, dressed in Mandalorian armour stating that he had been promoted to the Council because of his military expertise wasn’t exactly something Obi-Wan felt like bragging about either.

* * *

AN: So this is actually a plotline I’ve been working on for about a year but the elements didn’t fit with my other stories. Yes, I know I have too many, but it’s the cream that rises to the surface. Other than updates, desires, thoughts, feedback, elephants, or reactions? Please?


	2. Conversations

KEYnote: I know I have a lot of stories going, but as fanfiction allows me to write when inspired as I am neither getting paid or have deadlines, I would appreciate less cheek. I finished two big fics last year, give me some credit here.

UPdates: I’ve been wanting to write more than read, which is why the Luke and Leia fics are on pause. I have moments of wanting to write Anakin that come and go randomly. And Mavericks needs a few more weeks of plotting because you know, detailed plotting takes time :D Laughing is waiting for the next movie, Belladonna is going to be  _ sloooooooow _ updates.  **When the Dragon Spoke to the Moon** is going to be finished by summer.

Chapter 2 - Conversations

The Council had contacted someone to get to the energy system as soon as Obi-Wan had mentioned it, the Council room was equipped with every form of alarm and transmissions.

But Obi-Wan hadn’t meant to delay telling them, he had actually known which part of the timeline he had entered. And it had been a long time since he had worried about Xanatos. 

Of course, even as they departed the Council room, Obi-Wan still wasn’t afraid of Xanatos. 

He left his helmet with Satine as a Mandalorian hiding their face in the Temple was unlikely to endear him to the Temple Guard.

Satine had gone into the city to find a ship.

How she was going to afford a ship was anyone’s guess, but Obi-Wan had learned from experience that Satine was as good at improving as Qui-Gon.

Giving the others a slip was not difficult, finding Xanatos was down right easy.

The black haired boy looked so young now to Obi-Wan’s eyes, as he leaned around a corner of one of the Temple’s outer walls.

In the Clone Wars, he would have tripped a million sensors by now.

How safe they had all believed themselves in this time.

Obi-Wan approached Xanatos casually, and if he had wanted to kill him, it would have only taken a moment.

But Xanatos deserved prison.

Obi-Wan held out his hand and called the boy’s sabre to him.

Xanatos spun, catching it in the air.

His green eyes were wide, the scar he’d given himself a mark of his instability. As an adult, as a Master, after learning that his own Padawan had been destined to fall, it was easier for Obi-Wan to sympathize with Qui-Gon’s hesitations in taking on another Padawan, on taking back a Padawan who had opposed him.

“Who are you?” Xanatos snarled activating the red blade.

Obi-Wan watched him, his lack of control, this was a boy power drunk off the backdraft of the Force.

He was so far from a Sith it was laughable.

Darth Maul, like Asajj Ventress, had not been taught with the true intent of becoming Dark Lords, but that was more in the psychological treatment they had been forced to endure than their actual Force training.

If Maul and Asajj had anything in common aside from being insanely powerful Dark Siders paired with a scary level of intelligence, they were both emotionally dependent on their Masters and team members.

For all that the Sith claimed to be different from the Jedi, they required their acolytes to have an absolute detachment to everyone and everything.

Maul had been obsessed with Obi-Wan, with killing the Jedi, a blinding hatred, and he had been incapable of working alone. When his Master abandoned him, he turned back to his people. The same was true of Asajj. And Asajj had nearly lost everything because she had gone after Dooku in revenge.

Obi-Wan didn’t see attachment as strength, but if your goal was to be evil, to be invincible, then the only thing you could care about was your own victory.

He watched Xanatos, a spoiled child who wanted more and work less. The Sith were pretty keen on torturing themselves and working until the point of death. A boy who hated Qui-Gon who had loved him too dearly to truly criticize his charge. 

Something Qui-Gon had maybe overcompensated a bit too much with Obi-Wan, but Qui-Gon had always loved too deeply, cared too much, had been all but broken by the boy he considered a son.

Obi-Wan hadn’t had time yet to meditate on the ramifications of Anakin falling, to put the pieces together as to why.

But knowing Anakin had turned to the Sith…

Obi-Wan found his heart broken as well, and he could recall too many of his own shortcomings in his and Anakin’s relationship that could have contributed.

“Aren’t you going to raise your weapon?” Xanatos asked.

Obi-Wan raised a brow and said in a dry tone, “You mean you’re not going to run away, how unexpected.”

It was too easy, Xanatos charged him with a roar as the others showed up. Obi-Wan raised his hand at them in a gesture to stop.

Mace caught Tahl’s arm as she tried to continue forward, and Qui-Gon yelled, “Obi-Wan!”

Obi-Wan didn’t bother even reaching for his lightsabre as he evaded Xanatos’s strikes.

This infuriated Xanatos and his strikes became more vicious, but his footwork was off, and in the next major dodge, Obi-Wan hooked his own foot under Xanatos’s, the boy tripped and only his youth and speed kept him from face planting.

“Who are you!?” Xanatos roared, keeping their audience in his sightlines, meaning Obi-Wan couldn’t see them.

Obi-Wan could have easily beaten him in a duel, but Xanatos had killed himself once. Jumping into lava was insane, but quick, throwing yourself on another’s lightsabre, also quick if you timed it right, but using your own lightsabre on yourself with a lifetime of training on how never to let your own weapon be used against you…

No, Obi-Wan didn’t think Xanatos had the discipline to use his own sabre to make a permanent escape.

“I am Qui-Gon’s apprentice,” Obi-Wan said, watching the Xanatos’s body for any movement.

“Liar! You are not Feemor!”

Obi-Wan paused glanced over his shoulder, to meet Qui-Gon’s worried gaze, “Master, who is Feemor?”

Qui-Gon paled a bit, then his face turned to horror as Xanatos lunged at his exposed side. Obi-Wan had been counting on it though, and took a half step back and twisted as Xanatos went past him.

Obi-Wan grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back even as his momentum carried him forward.

Xanatos didn’t keep his feet.

Asajj or Maul would have slaughtered him in moments.

Xanatos twisted awkwardly attempting to stab his sabre back, but Obi-Wan caught his wrist. He used the Force to switch the blade off and twisted Xanatos’s wrist sharply.

Again he screamed.

Obi-Wan tossed the sabre with it’s bleeding crystal toward the Masters. 

Maul would have used that pain against Obi-Wan.

The differences between the Sith and a fallen Jedi. Was there more to learn about the Darkness? Was the Darkness even what the Force was or was it in them?

Obi-Wan had always believed that the Force was goodness, that its intentions were positive, at least on a grand level.

But could it be more complicated than that? Did the Force wish for bad things? Or was good and evil only distinguishable by the wielder?

Xanatos struggled, his voice cracking, “Let go! Get off me! Who are you!? Who are you!?”

Mace handed Obi-Wan restraining Force-suppressing cuffs as Obi-Wan took the boy fully down into the ground, cuffing his hands behind his back.

Perhaps boy was too charitable, Xanatos was well into his twenties, Bruck Chun didn’t deserve getting messed up with this.

Obi-Wan stood, jerking Xanatos to his feet.

Xanatos was spitting mad, “How did you defeat me!? Qui-Gon couldn’t-”

“I’ve spent too many years nearly getting killed without my lightsabre. Besides, that’s an abysmal display of Ataru. You only stood a chance against Qui-Gon because you know him and because he doesn’t want to hurt you. My grandpadawan could have swept the floor with you.”

Xanatos snarled at him as he pushed him forward along the path toward the Temple, “No one can avoid a lightsabre like that-”

“Clearly you’re special enough not to have frequent assassination attempts on your life then,” Obi-Wan said with a smirk, watching Mace who was on his com readying for a transport.

That earned him a laugh from Tahl.

Force help him, it was so good to see her alive again.

Xanatos had tried blowing up the Temple, went after their younglings, and tried assassinating Yoda, there would be no trial.

“He’s a suicide risk, Mace,” he told him even as Xanatos jerked against Obi-Wan’s grip on his arm.

“ _ You don’t know me!” _

Obi-Wan squeezed down on his arms and said evenly, “You enslaved me, nearly blew me up half a dozen times, nearly buried Qui-Gon, I, and many innocents in mines. I know you, Xanatos, I know you gave up every shred of decency for a father who sought to use you for prestige and as a weapon against his foes. That you started up a company that threatens not just the livelihoods of many but the ecosystems of dozens of planets and moons. You are a traitor and a monster because you know as well as I that your fate was entirely of your own making.”

Xanatos' face was a mask of rage, but it was a shallow rage.

Maul had been rage embodied and forged in the fires of hell.

A flash of Anakin’s face, his eyes yellow, bright lava behind him, made Obi-Wan’s blood run cold.

Xanatos was weak, Maul never had a choice, Asajj had been broken, Dooku had fallen because he had been a powerful man who had gone too far, but Anakin?

The Son on Mortis had told Obi-Wan that Anakin would fall, but why?

What would push Anakin over the edge?

Fear?

Had something happened to Ahsoka?

Perhaps his lover, Padme? But Obi-Wan didn’t understand that, perhaps that would push him to the Dark but not against the Jedi. Because to be a Sith was to oppose the Jedi, Obi-Wan was pretty sure it was in their code.

“Qui-Gon called you Obi-Wan, you can’t be Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Xanatos said.

“Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, dear,” Tahl said.

“Time travel!?” Xanatos sputtered after a moment.

They all ignored him and Qui-Gon asked, “Obi-Wan, are you alright?”

It should have been a silly question, there was so much wrong he didn’t know where to start, but he met Qui-Gon’s gaze anyway, “Is it really a switch? One moment you’re fine, the next you’re-” Obi-Wan gestures to Xanatos who glowered at him.

“No,” Qui-Gon sighed, “I missed the signs, Yoda, did not. I should have listened.”

Obi-Wan thought back to Mortis and was certain that he was missing something also, likely many things.

Had the war not begun then maybe he could have discovered the causes. Of course, had the war not been set into motion, Obi-Wan would have had more time with Anakin and perhaps the Council wouldn’t have sent him on so many missions on his own without Anakin when he was too young to join him.

Those early years were part of Obi-Wan’s greatest regrets, Anakin had needed him, but the Senate had kept requesting him personally and…

Tahl touched his arm, “I think you’ve changed a lot already, Obi-Wan. Whatever nightmares haunt you, you have time to change it.”

He nodded, “You’re right.”

He hoped she was right.

“How did you even survive?” Xanatos demanded, “You were weaker than me, slower, clumsy.”

Obi-Wan smiled, “Perseverance, hard work, sheer exposure to chaos.”

“How did you time travel?”

“No idea,” he answered truthfully. Force, he was tired.

“You are nothing,” Xanatos hissed.

“Said the fool going to prison,” Obi-Wan said as the Temple guard took charge of Xanatos.

“You’ll regret this, Kenobi!?” Xanatos screamed, then yelped as the Guard pinched his shoulder none-too-gently.

Mace, Qui-Gon, Tahl, and he stopped and stepped into an alcove.

“Thank you,” Mace said first.

“What will you do with Bruck Chun?” Obi-Wan asked.

“What happened to him in your timeline?”

“I killed him by accident, he slipped, and there was not enough to get to him.”

Mace nodded, “He is young. He will remain in the Healers ward for treatment and have Masters sit with him to help him through the Darkness. He can learn, afterward, it will be his choice to join the Corps or go back to his family that he has apparently already made contact with me.”

“I think if you start sending the initiates out with the Corps more often, it would lessen the captivity and anxiety among them. I know many great Jedi among their number that found a deeper connection with the Force then some of Knights ever did. It would also allow them to realize that they can start families of their own without being cut off from our community. Initiates fear the unknown Mace, more than failing, more than the Dark Side, more than anything. It is ridiculous that we should have as many fallen as we do. We are overly centralized.”

Obi-Wan had to push away the images of small bodies on the ground and took deliberate breaths.

Mace groaned, “You  _ are _ Qui-Gon’s apprentice.”

Qui-Gon glared at Mace, “I’ve been telling you this all for years. Our children should not be sheltered as they are.”

“Xanatos-” Mace began.

But Qui-Gon cut him off,  _ “Xanatos _ is why I believe Obi-Wan is correct. Being centralized was all well in good when we were solely a military and political power in the galaxy. We are more than that now, it makes no sense to separate the younglings from the galaxy we are raising them to serve.”

“Contact Fay,” Obi-Wan suggested, “She knows the most about the Outer Rim, she’ll know the powers and places to stay away from.”

Mace looked appalled, “We are not moving the younglings to the Outer Rim, only a full handful of systems are in the Republic’s control, and then only barely?”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms, “And why is that, Council member? Are you suggesting that there are some being treated unequally in the Republic?”

“Don’t start,” Mace warned.

Obi-Wan felt his expression darken, “Keeping the peace is not keeping the status quo. You nearly lost half a dozen Knights today on Galidraan. You nearly started a war in the Mandalore system that would wipe out two-thirds of their population, leaving it unstable for decades to come. You can’t keep trusting the Senate blindingly, representative democracy does not mean those politicians are without self interests, and so long as the Jedi follow their word alone, then we are a part of their power and corruption.”

“Exactly,” Tahl said, “oh, Obi-Wan, you make me so proud.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile, “Thanks, Master Tahl.”

“Hmm… much to think about, given us, you have,” Yoda joined them unannounced, but to be fair, they were in a hallway.

“We need action, Master, not years of discussion. You’ve been alive long enough to see the Jedi’s decline, the Ruusan Reformation has failed us,” Obi-Wan said.

“Insult my legacy, you do,” Yoda said.

“Your living legacy begins with Dooku and he joined the Sith who survived despite their defeat a thousand years ago, a defeat that was begotten by the Sith, not by our hands. Our people are not ready for the Sith, Master, our people are not ready for war.”

“War, we will not go.”

“Are you not listening to me?” Obi-Wan demanded, “I am a General, you and Mace are Generals. Qui-Gon and Tahl were not only because they were murdered. The time of the Jedi is waning and the time you have to change that is limited.”

“Rush these things, we cannot.”

“Then die, you will,” Obi-Wan snapped back.

“Obi-Wan,” Mace warned.

Obi-Wan didn’t stop, “Down to the last youngling, we will die, the Republic that the Jedi created the Sith will inherit as an Empire because of our incompetence.”

“If so concerned you are, then stay you should.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said flatly.

“Only a day given us, have you. Time to think on what you have revealed, to reconcile with the Force bringing you back in time there has not been.”

“But there are things I can do, that you cannot.”

“Arrogant you have become,” Yoda said.

“No, Yoda. This is not arrogance, I have been defeated. I will risk no one else to follow the hunches I have and do not have time to wait for your permission.”

“What happens if die, you do?” Yoda asked. “All we have to learn from you, lost it will be.”

Obi-Wan gestured to Qui-Gon, “You have him and Dooku and Sifo-Dyas, there is literally nothing I can tell that they cannot. You just need to stop ignoring what is right in front of you because of tradition. Master Yoda, it will be the death of us all.”

Yoda was very quiet for a long time.

Mace said, “Obi-Wan, if you leave, you’ll need to hand in your sabre. I acknowledge that you are a Master, but the rest of the Council does not believe you are who you claim to be.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “I’ll duel you for it.”

“Excuse me?” Mace asked, blinking at him.

“Knights and Padawans are often required to hand in their sabres if they leave, but not Masters. You’re the current duelling champion because Dooku let you win.”

“Dooku didn’t let me win,” Mace said, annoyed.

“I saw the holos, Mace,” Obi-Wan teased, this had been a long worn debate between them, “Dooku had to backtrack because you made such a blunder that he would have taken your leg off at the knee. Dooku would kill you in an actual fight.” At least at the age, he was now.

Mace looked truly annoyed, especially when both Qui-Gon and Yoda suppressed sniggers. 

“You can’t beat me, Kenobi.”

“I’m certain I can,” Obi-Wan said, “In fairness, I will have the advantage as I have duelled with you before and you’ve never seen me fight, but as Duelling Champion, I can’t imagine a little thing like that will scare you.”

Mace shook his head, “I will not lose.”

“And I will not simply hand over my lightsabre when I plan to poke at the Sith. If you want it, you’ll have to take it from me, and as I am not your enemy, I would rather do that in a formal duel.”

“Fine,” Mace said, “Noon, tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Obi-Wan said.

“If leave us you do, lost will you be,” Yoda said gravely.

Obi-Wan shook his head, stepping out into the hallway, “I’ll be back tomorrow, but I cannot stay.”

“Why not?” Yoda asked plainly.

Obi-Wan bowed to him, and as he stood, he said, “Because, Grandmaster, I have spilled too much blood in the name of peace, and in doing so, I have helped bring about everything I hoped to stand against.” He bowed again to the others, “Masters.”

He left before anyone could come up with a comeback.

* * *

Qui-Gon didn’t know what to feel, how to feel. Everything was happening too fast.

But he didn’t have long.

He felt like he needed Obi-Wan permission on whatever he decided with his own Padawan. Whatever scars he had given to his Padawan, Master Kenobi was clearly one the Order’s brightest lights.

Even defeated as he claimed to be, even as angry as he was, even in love, as he would bet his own lightsabre on, given the looks Obi-Wan gave to Duchess Satine, he was still wreathed with light.

A part of Qui-Gon wanted the younger Obi-Wan back at his side more than ever but…

Dooku opened his door before he could so much as a knock, “Well, look who's come to my door for advice. It’s been a long time, Padawan mine.”

Qui-Gon scowled at him, “You’re really going to take that tone with me when the time traveller says you will fall to the Dark Side and start a  _ galactic civil war? _ ”

Dooku turned his back on him and Qui-Gon followed, shutting the door behind. 

“You’re not getting out of this conversation, Master,” he warned.

“I’m making tea,” Dooku said drily without turning around.

“Do you really have no defence ready?”

“What defence?” Dooku said, gaze on the tea leaves, “I haven’t done anything.”

“I watched you torture that bounty hunter to death with Sith Lighting in front of me,” Qui-Gon said, “You enjoyed her screams.”

Dooku set the kettle down so hard, Qui-Gon realized he had dropped it.

“She was going to assault  _ you _ and torture you to death.”

“I never asked for you to take revenge.”

“I scared you,” Dooku said as if it was a new realization.

Qui-Gon let out an exclamation, “Of course you did, I’ve been terrified-”

Dooku was standing in front of him, “You thought I would ever harm you?”

There was hurt in his voice, confusion in his dark eyes, but that worried Qui-Gon more than his outrage would have, “You’re slipping, Master, and you haven’t even realized how far.”

Dooku shook his head, “I have not lost control, but I do believe today would have been a tipping point. Satine and Master Kenobi explained in detail on the days’ journey back to Coruscant what our actions would have cost us, Mandalore, and the galaxy. They told me of the Knights I would have brought home in body bags. I can see how that would have pushed my limits.”

“You aren’t thinking of leaving?” Qui-Gon asked.

“What is there for me to stay for? Apparently, I terrify you.”

“Master…”

“No, Qui-Gon, I understand. You and Master Kenobi are right, I have some… corrections, to make within myself, but that does not erase my failings or those of the Order.”

“There has to be time,” Qui-Gon said, “Or why else would the Force bring those two individuals back? Back to you and now. I have to believe there is a purpose, that we aren’t too late.”

“Komari still left, she left as soon as we touched down on Coruscant.”

“I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon said.

“I am too, I saw such potential in her and…”

“I know,” Qui-Gon said, taking a seat on the stiff sofa. “I know.”

“You loved the boy too well,” Dooku said, bringing over the tea set, the water had already been boiled when Qui-Gon had stepped into the room.

“And my Padawan loved me too much.”

“You could not have foreseen that, Master,” Qui-Gon said, “you are quite old. I honestly don’t know what she saw in you.”

Dooku sat and rubbed at his eyes, “I wish…”

Qui-Gon gave him time.

Dooku dropped his hand and sighed, “I wish our people were more immersed in other societies. People are too contained, and the class sizes are growing smaller each year. We have more elders than younglings these days.”

“Master Kenobi suggested we decentralize and have the younglings more exposed to the Corps.”

Dooku looked up at him, “That… is an excellent idea. But Yoda will never…”

“Yoda is not the only voice on the Council.”

Dooku leaned back, “You have said no to the Council seat before.”

“I wish to pledge myself to Tahl.”

Dooku looked away from him, “Padawan…”

“Unions have been allowed in the past,” Qui-Gon remarked.

“And you believe yourself to be an exception?”

“I believe that I am a failure. I failed Xanatos, I failed Obi-Wan, and Feemor won’t even speak to me.”

“You mean because you disappeared for nearly two years without telling anyone so you could study at the Temple of Jedha to find yourself?” Dooku mused, voice drier than Tatooine. 

Qui-Gon winced, “I did not denounce Feemor, that is not what I meant.”

Dooku sighed once more, “I know.”

“But I am failing Obi-Wan too. He becomes an amazing Master Jedi, that is plain for all to see, but he is hurting, and I can’t get it out of my head that this is my doing.”

“So what will you do?” Dooku asked.

Qui-Gon dropped to his knees to pour the tea with steady hands. He knew how Dooku preferred it, honey and lemon.

More lemon than honey.

He passed Dooku his tea cup before taking his own. When he sat back down on the sofa he said, “I do not know.”

“What do you feel?”

Qui-Gon looked into his tea, then met Dooku’s gaze, “How can I possibly be what is best for him?”

Dooku stared back at him, “How can you be what is best for him when you have failed in the past, and likely failed in the future?”

“Precisely.”

“If it wasn’t for the time traveller, I would say that you are worrying overly much.”

“But there is a time traveller,” Qui-Gon stated.

“And he seems rather miserable,” Dooku said lightly, sipping his tea. “But by no means, a failure as Xanatos and Komari have proven to be.”

“I don’t know what to do with Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, running his hand through his hair, “He deserves to follow the path of a Jedi Knight, that much is obvious but communication between us… he has pride and talent, but unlike Xanatos, he lacks confidence, he’s fragile.”

“Didn’t he nearly blow himself up for you before you had even considered taking him as your Padawan? That is not my definition of fragile.”

Qui-Gon motioned with his hand, “Exactly! The boy is brave and big hearted, but he reads too much into my silence and he misinterprets what I do say. I think our skills balance each other, but he is too young to be my equal. He has neither the experience nor the self-confidence for it and that is in no way his fault.”

“Agreed,” Dooku said.

They drank their tea for a few minutes.

Finally, Dooku asked, “What went wrong between us?”

“Besides your occasionally spacing off into the Dark Side of the Force or torturing people?”

Dooku grimaced, “Yes, besides that. You have always spoken your mind, Qui-Gon, but this is the first true conversation we have had in years.”

“I wanted you to be happy, happy with me, but I wanted to study the Living Force, I wanted to spend time with my friends, I wanted to see the galaxy like Rael saw it.”

Dooku snorted, “Rael is a terrible influence.”

“Have you spoken with him since-?”

“Nim,” Dooku said sadly, “Was a great loss. He’s been working some missions with Feemor, as it happens, in the far Outer Rim. I convinced him to take a few missions that were not on his own.”

Qui-Gon sighed, “What should I have done when Obi-Wan defected on Melida/Daan? I thought poorly of Rael for endangering Pim. But since I’ve met Obi-Wan, it’s been one mortal peril after another.”

Dooku was quiet for a long moment, before he said, “You should have gone back for him, sooner than you did. And he should have called you back, sooner than he did. You're both a match for stubbornness, which I believe is why Yoda wanted you together so you could frustrate each other as much you have frustrated them over the years.” He almost smiled at the last.

“What?” Qui-Gon asked.

Dooku hmmed, “Master Kenobi mentioned how the Council taught him to be rule abiding. It makes me wonder how he rebelled against you in his later years.”

Qui-Gon stared at him, “We were just discussing how he left the Order on me.”

Dooku waved it away, “He’s thirteen, you haven’t seen rebellious yet. Feemor’s act of rebellion was to be infuriated with you for your disappearing act, rightly so, but he was too much of a scholar to really rebel in his younger years, and Xanatos went off the deep end, Obi-Wan, however… how does one rebel against a rebel?”

Qui-Gon frowned, “What are you talking about?”

“I mean you and Rael rebelled against me with,” Dooku gestured at him, “appalling decorum.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t help but smirk at that.

“Obi-Wan, however, well, I imagine a Padawan who strove for perfection with the Code and followed the Council to the letter would drive yo-”

Qui-Gon groaned, “No. No, I can’t believe that, Yoda wouldn’t…”

Dooku gave him a look.

Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can’t keep up with Yoda’s scheming.”

“No one can,” Dooku said with displeasure, “he changes the rules of the game as he pleases so it always appears as if he were right from the very beginning.”

Qui-Gon sighed, “What would you have done, on Melida/Daan, Master?”

Dooku looked off into the distance, tapped a finger on his cup, “If Tahl was the priority, I would have beaten his arse and tossed him over my shoulder if I had to. He would either learn how to skive off cleverly, as you did, or he could blame me for the bad things and come to understand them later.”

Qui-Gon stared at him, “I still don’t understand why you tortured that bounty hunter.”

“Because I loved you, and I wanted her to regret even having thought of hurting you.”

“Master, you are going to fall if you stay on this path.”

“That was brought to my attention this day.”

“Do you know if it’s too late for you?”

Dooku looked at him, “As you said, the time travellers landed at my feet. And the Force did speak to me, I’ve never trusted the words of anyone as I did that day. However impossible it seems, they are real and time travel is possible.” He put down his tea cup “You should speak with Yoda about Obi-Wan. This Padawanship was his idea, and I doubt he foresaw the possible outcome. I can only be sure that if it is what he wants, then Padawan Kenobi should be trained to his full potential.”

“But am I really the one who should teach him?” Qui-Gon asked.

Dooku’s lips thinned, and Qui-Gon could read something on his face, but he said again, “Speak with Yoda.”

* * *

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi frowned at the Duchess of Mandalore and asked one simple question as he stared up at the ship that could safely house a small family, complete with a kitchen, functioning shields, and hyperdrive.

“How?”

Satine smiled up at him, and handed him back his helmet, “I can’t give away all my secrets, now can I, Obi-Wan?”

He smiled but he grew serious a moment later when he asked, “Satine, I love you.”

Her smile brightened, “I love you too.”

He shook his head, “I want to share a life with you.”

She put her hands on his arms, “I want the same.”

“It’s- I can leave the Order, but I can’t leave the galaxy to its own devices and if they can, my enemies will use you against me.”

“The Force asked me if I would live through it again, my answer hasn’t changed.”

He swallowed, “Satine-”

Her hands found his neck, her fingers winding in his hair as she pulled him for a kiss, “We are in this together, and I will always want to be at your side. I’m no longer a Duchess, you no longer belong to the Republic. I’ll burn down anything else that stands between us.”

He gasped, “Was that a threat of violence?”

She shut him up in the best of ways as she took him to be acquainted with their new ship.

* * *

Padawan (maybe) Kenobi, did not sleep that night. And in the morning when Master Qui-Gon knocked on his door, he was too nervous to even attempt pleasantries.

“You aren’t taking me back, are you?” Obi-Wan asked unnecessarily because it was written on the Master’s face.

Qui-Gon smiled at him gently as they sat by the window, “I see now that I should have never asked you to be my Padawan. There are strengths in differences, take Knight Plo and his Master for instance. But I am not a fit teacher for you, or perhaps, I still have things to come to terms with within myself.”

Obi-Wan fought not to cry, this was it. His dreams had finally found their end, Qui-Gon was as much a disappointment to him as he was to Qui-Gon.

Yet he couldn’t help trying one last time, "If this is about the time travel, Master, I can choose a different path I can-"

Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder, "Master Kenobi was upset, understandably, you understand now how hard it can be to be taken out of a war," Qui-Gon said kindly, "the only thing your counterpart showed me was that I undervalued you, and you deserve better than that. You are a fine Padawan, one any Master would be proud to have, but I was not blind that my teaching methods were not helping you. While learning about two major dualities of the Force within our Order can be quite beneficial, it isn’t always so in our youth. You are a practitioner of the Cosmic Force and that is not my area of expertise. 

“I have spoken with Yoda at great length; you were top of your class for all basic formations in Lightsabre practice, a point your counterpart is likely to illustrate for us today at the heights which you are likely to achieve. Additionally, your grades in the philosophies and histories of our people are among the highest in a century. You are strong, Obi-Wan, intelligent, brave, and unbelievably kindhearted, you-"

Obi-Wan stood, unable to tolerate this false praise if it wasn't going to amount to anything, he tried not to yell as he asked, "Then why am I not good enough for you?"

"You met my Master yesterday, what did you think of him?"

Obi-Wan frowned, "I don't know, it's Master Dooku, he's one of the most impressive Masters in the Order. Although, I did feel a bit bad for him when they said he was going to fall to the Dark Side and start a civil war. Also about his latest Padawan..."

"Indeed, I doubted that's what he wanted to hear. My Master has long been a scholar of the Dark Side and the histories of the Sith, such as they are, but he has always been very proud of never crossing the line."

Obi-Wan caught the slight inflexion in his voice, "Has ever done anything-"

"I have seen my Master use the Darkness and he remains in the Light."

Obi-Wan felt like that was the definition of playing with fire.

"But that isn't the point I was trying to make, my Master ascribed to the philosophies of the Living Force. He did not approve of me studying it, and rather than playing to my own strengths, I did everything I could to appease him. I rarely asked for help, I rarely asked for clarification. I studied hard, did as I was told and took my Trials as soon as I was able. It wasn't until my Knighting did I feel free enough to study as I wished, to speak and act as I believed was best, not what I thought Dooku would want from me."

Obi-Wan stared at him, never having thought about it like that and yet…

Qui-Gon patted the seat, "Please, Obi-Wan, I know I am not the finest at speaking about interpersonal matters, but you must understand that this is not a punishment."

Obi-Wan came to sit but he didn't know what to say.

But Qui-Gon picked up his story, "Dooku and I are not so close these days. We are friends, of course, as I hope to be friends with you. But Dooku and I ceased to be partnered with each other on missions. I think, over time, you and I would continue to be a good field pair, we balance each other's weaknesses. But I fear that as Master and Padawan, we might always be out of sync, misunderstandings happen too frequently between us. I am largely to blame for that. However, I do not wish for you to be my learning curve, Obi-Wan. I worry that my blunders will feed your doubts and that my understanding of the Force will frustrate you more than help you. We have only been together for a short time but you are not advancing as quickly as Yoda had predicted."

Obi-Wan bowed his head, nothing disappointing the Grandmaster to make him feel a-oh-kay.

"Obi-Wan look at me, please."

He did look up and saw the kindest expression Qui-Gon had ever given him. "That is my failing, not yours, Yoda was very clear on that point. You need a Master who studies the Cosmic Force, I am holding you back."

"But there isn't anyone else!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, "I'm thirteen, I'll be fourteen soon enough. There isn't anyone else, everyone else thinks I'm too angry, too rash, but they're wrong, I'm just a perfectionist and I am constantly disappointing myself."

Qui-Gon laughed.

Obi-Wan's cheeks burned and he lost the battle against his tears, "It isn't funny. I know I'm flawed, no matter how hard I try. That's why I can't control my emotions right because I feel like I'm constantly failing. But I can learn, I know I can. I just need time."

Qui-Gon shook his head, "You will make a better Knight than I, Obi-Wan. You make that clearer with every word you speak. But you need not concern yourself about your age, an exception has been made for you. You've been given three months leave for healing and reflection, and if no other Knight or Master chooses you at the end of that time-"

Obi-Wan was shaking on the inside, three months of waiting? Only to be disappointed again? He didn't think that really counted as space for healing.

"At which point," Qui-Gon reemphasized calling him back to attention. "Yoda has agreed to take you as his Padawan.”

Obi-Wan gaped at Qui-Gon.

“Although, as Master Yoda is so often busy, Master Jocasta Nu has agreed to supplement your studies. It will be different than other Padawanships, it's why Council Members so rarely take Padawans, there will be fewer missions off world and you will most likely be assigned missions with other Council members for their missions as Yoda so rarely leaves Coruscant these days."

Obi-Wan felt as if his world was spinning, relief made him lightheaded, "So, no matter what, I remain a Jedi Padawan?"

A part of him regretted that it wouldn’t be Qui-Gon, but now that the fear was receding, he could understand Qui-Gon’s logic, mostly, at any rate.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said with a sympathetic smile, "Though being Yoda's Padawan would mean-"

"I like the archives," he said quickly, he would be damned before anyone called him ungrateful again.

Qui-Gon laughed, “I am glad and I will always welcome your company, Obi-Wan, whether you need my help, my advice, or would simply like to enjoy a cup of tea in the gardens. This arrangement… I just want what is best for you.”

"Thank you, Master," he said with sincere gratitude.

Qui-Gon ruffled his hair, "You saved my life a few times over. Had you not been my Padawan, Xanatos would have succeeded in killing me and countless others, I have not forgotten the things you have accomplished. So take this time to rest, Obi-Wan, it is well deserved.”

"May the Force be with you, Master”

“Qui-Gon stood and bowed low to him, "And with you, Padawan Kenobi.”

* * *

AN: Thoughts, feedback, talk to me please, or kittens?


	3. Most People

Chapter 3 - Most People

Dooku wouldn’t necessarily call himself a vindictive personality, however, nor would he deny that he had a bit of a vindictive streak.

Therefore when he sat down between his best friend Sifo-Dyas and his Master, Yoda for the duel, there were no doubts as to who he hoped would come out on top in this duel.

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had been introduced to the collective as simply, Master Kenobi, a not so distant relative of Padawan Kenobi.

Master Kenobi was ‘unorthodox’ which could mean any variety of things. In this case, they understood this duel was a way of earning his place among them, they didn’t know that it was Kenobi’s lightsabre on the line.

Dooku was still bitter about Mace beating him, though, he did have to hand it to the man, without deadly force, it was nearly impossible to beat him. Makashi was unfortunately at its best in a real fight.

Admittedly, that wasn’t untrue of most lightsabre forms. It was the reason he conceded his loss to Mace.

This didn’t mean he wasn’t hoping Kenobi beat him into the stone. For one, the young man was his grandpadawan, two, Mace needed some humility.

The two men bowed to each other, Kenobi still in his red armour sans helmet, and Mace in traditional Jedi robes.

Dooku glanced at Padawan Obi-Wan and wondered what the boy would make of himself, what he would learn.

The duel started fairly disappointing. Master Kenobi gave ground, practically running away from Mace without ever giving him his back.

Dooku inhaled swallowing a gasp when he realized that it wasn’t a fear reaction or the man underestimating the Vaapad Master.

Sifo-Dyas chuckled, “A Soresu Master, there’s one I haven’t seen in a long time.”

Dooku shook his head, “Do we even have any Masters who have chosen it as their primary form?”

Yoda shook his head, “Hard work, Soresu is. Long training, much dedication and patience needed.”

Obi-Wan was glancing up at them from the corner of his eye where the sat on the higher seats, Tahl and Qui-Gon beside them.

They were well within hearing distance.

The irony of Kenobi mastering Soresu was lost on no one, especially not the Padawan version of himself.

Perfection was not always a great quality because it could lead to many problems down the line. However, watching Master Kenobi lead Mace across the stone floors like a river directing rainwater to the sea, there was an undeniable statement.

Here was a Knight they had nearly thrown away, nearly left, nearly did not forgive, and here he was, in what Dooku was quietly beginning to think was  _ the _ Master of Soresu, a form that was the literal embodiment of Jedi philosophy.

Non-violence.

Defence.

Restraint.

Endurance.

Wisdom.

And Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was putting on the most advanced demonstration Dooku had ever personally witnessed of the Form.

It also, to Dooku’s unending pleasure, left Mace with nothing to work with. Vaapad was an overtly aggressive style that branched from Form VII, Juro, which had been an erratic development of  _ the _ aggressive form, Ataru.

Despite that, Vapaad was, at its heart, a defensive style, offence, of course, being the best defence, that relied on redirecting an opponent's aggression against them.

Kenobi gave him nothing to work with, because Soresu was anti-aggressive, meaning that even as Mace pressed the attack, he was the one off balance and Kenobi was dictating every aspect of the fight.

Qui-Gon had told him that Kenobi had been certain of his victory, had even admitted that Mace would be at a severe disadvantage.

Dooku hadn’t believed it then, but he saw it now.

It also didn’t escape him how at peace, or rather lazy and bored Kenobi was.

Mace was but a Jedi Master, not an enemy, the only stake was a lightsabre that Kenobi’s best way of keeping was to remain calm.

And the bored look he was giving Mace was certainly working Mace’s fuses, but he hadn’t slipped up yet.

It was the obvious yet near inescapable technique of Soresu; outlast your opponent, wait for them to tire or make a mistake.

Mace’s control, however, had few equals, both Dooku and Mace dabbled in the Dark Side of the Force, and to remain in the Light, that required control.

It might have been a long duel indeed, however, to Dooku’s eternal delight, Kenobi picked up a light hearted conversation.

“You rose so far, so fast, Mace, but not every challenge is a sprint.”

Mace gritted his teeth as he soared at Kenobi who was always two to three motions ahead, “Soresu, how very classical, but there are reasons Form III and IV followed it.”

Kenobi inclined his head, Mace took that slight opening, and nearly got his uncle broken from a sharp kick Kenobi took as he stepped into and not away from Mace’s reach.

Like Makeshi, Soresu was economy of motion, but paired with Force enhanced speed, the continuous momentum he was using matched Mace’s arching sweeps easily and Mace was forced to retreat.

Which is when the Soresu Master flipped.

Djem So was Soresu’s opposite even if Djem So had originated from Soresu. It was aggressive, relied on bodily strength, but the technical aspects of the forms could bleed into each other.

Mace almost wasn’t fast enough to keep up with the rapid switch.

Kenobi wasn’t using Djem So to its fullest potential, pulling out of the strikes too soon, rallying on speed over strength which directly undercut the usefulness of the form.

But Mace was still retreating as Kenobi pressed into Mace’s reach and not allowing him time to build into any of the Vaapad stances. It almost looked as if Kenobi would win there and then, which would have been disappointing as a bastardized style of Djem So should not have marked Mace Windu’s defeat.

And it didn’t, yet as soon as Mace recovered, Kenobi dropped back gracefully into Soresu and Mace was back to being led around by the nose.

Dooku swallowed a chuckle.

“Have you broken a sweat so soon, Mace? Honestly, I expected better from a man of your youth.”

Mace gave Kenobi a look like murder suddenly seemed to be an acceptable response to this challenge.

Kenobi smiled cheekily, “I feel as though our brothers and sisters faith in you is going to lose them a lot of credits.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Dooku himself had bet on Kenobi, if one couldn’t bet on their grandpadawan over their brother-padawan, then that wasn’t a galaxy Dooku had much respect for.

Xanatos nor Pim counted as neither had been Knighted.

Feemor couldn’t have beaten Mace in a duel, but then that boy had essentially become one of the Temple’s glorified assassins, and well, everyone had their own talents.

“You think too highly of yourself, Kenobi,” Mace said.

“Do I?” Kenobi asked as he backflipped out of Mace’s range in a classic Ataru flip.

Dooku smiled, Kenobi was a Master in Soresu, a Master who could have been a purest if he chose to be and still win, but war changed people.

Dooku had no doubts that in a siege where blasters were the main danger that he was near invincible, but versus another Master in duel, the young General was not afraid to be inventive, and he was in enough control to be judicious and purposeful when he altered between forms.

Dooku liked to think that it was something he had learned from Qui-Gon.

Perhaps their partnership had not started well, perhaps it had not ended well, perhaps the moments of peace and understanding between them had been few and far between, but there were still reasons that Qui-Gon was so widely respected throughout the Order.

Kenobi had clearly made is own way, but the man, whether or not he was a practitioner of the Cosmic or Living Force, he was very present, adaptive, and self-possessed.

Dooku himself was more strategic than his Padawan, but his grandpadawan had obviously learned to be flexible and utilize moments of improvisation where needed.

Dooku felt as if he were learning so much about the Master in Mandalorian armour as he danced across the arena. He was not Qui-Gon’s opposite, but he might have been his foil, a refined embodiment of all Qui-Gon’s strengths.

Dooku thought it would be likely that Kenobi would make a good negotiator, because he was quick and clever, and if he had been elected to the Council the chances he was better at communication was high.

If Dooku were to guess at Kenobi’s weakness, it was that he showed none. He was polished and smoothed and faced every challenge undaunted.

It would make him easy to admire but hard to relate to. It was one thing Dooku had always treasured about both Qui-Gon and Rael in an Order of Knights that strove always to be infallible and preemptively apologetic in the name of keeping the peace.

Both Qui-Gon and Rael had innumerable faults, and rarely, if ever, apologized for them. It made them loud, it made them individuals, it inspired inspiration while putting others outside the Order at greater ease even if they caused conflict. Because they were both so very human. Qui-Gon was perhaps more of a mystic than Rael, which made Rael better at undercover work and Qui-Gon better at giving spiritual advice to people who were not religious people themselves.

Qui-Gon was special because he was common, because he had achieved such a deep connection with the Force while remaining himself.

The Temple had never suited Qui-Gon, but Qui-Gon had suited the vast majority of the galaxy, especially those who lacked wealth and resources. His sort compassion was most evident to those who were in severe need, or had received abuse, or who had hard edges themselves.

Dooku had no doubts Qui-Gon through example had taught Kenobi had to deal with strong emotions, but it wasn’t hard to understand how a boy sheltered by the Temple who respected hierarchy and authority, even when he challenged it, would have had difficulties with a Master who viewed protocol as optional but his own instincts as unignorable. Qui-Gon was a big hearted person, but he wasn’t the most sensitive or politic, it made some, like Dooku, love him dearly, but it also meant that Qui-Gon unintentionally harmed those around him in his bullheadedness.

In some ways, he was glad that Obi-Wan the younger would not have to go through those same challenges, but on the other hand stood Master Kenobi who had overcome all those challenges with grace.

Mace, predictably, did slip up, and as if to prove a point, Kenobi let the first few slips happen without taking advantage before ending the duel when Mace clearly began to flag.

Vaapad was not designed for extended endurance, while Soresu took almost as much work in practice as it did with an opponent.

Kenobi was still bright eyed and even breathed as he bowed to the once duelling champion whose heart had beat under Kenobi’s humming blade not a moment before.

All rose to applaud.

If this had been Yoda’s goal, to make the perfect Jedi, then he had clearly succeeded, but the question was at what cost?

Dooku looked down at the awe-stuck Padawan Obi-Wan and wondered at all the things he would have had to sacrifice to become the man Mace was trying hard not to glare at in the arena.

Or perhaps, Dooku was overestimating a Master’s impact on their Padawan, perhaps Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been destined for greatness.

Perhaps Obi-Wan would always find his way to becoming one of the greatest Lights among them.

Perhaps it was the Order itself that had fallen from grace.

Because the Master whose life Yoda had taken such an active role in, who had just earned the title of Duelling Champion, had chosen to leave the Order, not once.

But twice.

* * *

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi hesitated before knocking on Qui-Gon's door.

“Come in,” a voice called.

The door slid open and he walked inside, and it felt like coming home. The smells, the glass wind chimes in the window, and the abundance of plants.

Qui-Gon himself stood there, more tangible than any dream, and Tahl was at his side.

It hurt.

And it healed, and a part of him wished that he could have stepped back into his old shoes and have been Qui-Gon’s Padawan again.

For all the turbulence between them, what they had been hard won.

Obi-Wan still loved Qui-Gon.

Tahl broke the tension stepping forward and pulling him into a hug.

He hugged her back, breathing her in, "I've missed you so much, Tahl."

After some time she pulled back, "I don't get to see you grow up, do I?"

Obi-Wan was well and truly past worrying about changing the future, “Remember the twins Eritha and Alani of New Apsolon?”

“Yes?” she said slowly.

“They betray you in an attempt to gain power over their planet. They had you tortured and you didn't survive. However you die, don’t have it be like that.”

Qui-Gon's breath caught.

Obi-Wan stepped, "That's part of what I wanted to speak to you both. I know you are both capable and independent, but you cannot go on missions alone anymore. Even the simple ones. The Jedi are being targeted and picked off and the galaxy begins to like us less and less.”

Qui-Gon raised a brow, “I take you’re not staying to enjoy your victory over Mace?”

Obi-Wan almost smiled, “Have you taken your Padawan back yet?”

He shook his head, “No, Obi-Wan and I discussed it. We talked, truly. Either another Master will take him or Yoda will, with the help of Jocasta Nu and the other Council Members.”

Obi-Wan did smile then, he laid his hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, “You will always be my Master, and I will always love.”

Qui-Gon smiled at him a bit bitterly, “But?”

Obi-Wan dropped his hand from Qui-Gon’s shoulder to catch his hand and then reached out for Tahl’s, “But I don’t have the answers for whether attachment is right or wrong, but I know you both, and you were always at your best together. Whatever is between your hearts you must confront before either of you is ready to take a Padawan. As Jedi, we are not taught how to behave within a romantic relationship. I know it is not for all Knights, but I know familiar bonds form between Padawan and Master. I believe that I failed my own Padawan not sharing my interpersonal relations so he hid his from me.

“I don’t think we should encourage relationships because there usually comes a point where you will have to choose between duty and heart, but it is a cultural failure that we should fear and hide who we are from one another.”

Tahl touched his cheek with her free hand even as she held onto Qui-Gon’s hand tightly, “You do not need to leave us to follow your own.”

He touched that hand and sighed, “My life was ruined by the Sith, as was Satine’s, I will accept happiness where I find it, but I must unravel this conspiracy that has so dominated our pasts and our future.”

“You do not need to do that alone,” Qui-Gon said, laying a hand on his shoulder so the three of them were connected in a loop and the Force seemed to sing between them.

“I will answer when you call, Master, but there are paths I must take that you should not follow.”

His hand tightened on his shoulder, “Do not get yourself killed.”

He smiled, “I’ve already died, besides, Padawan Kenobi will still be here. Just listen to Sifo-Dyas, he isn’t crazy. And don’t let Dooku go.”

“But you’re asking us to let you go?” Tahl asked.

He pulled them both into another embrace and with their arms wrapped around, he felt safer than he since…

Since he could not remember when.

“I will not be alone, and neither will you,” he pulled back from them, “Be happy, cause trouble.”

Tahl smirked, “Don’t we always?”

He grinned but said in parting, “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you,” they said in unison, their tone reluctant. 

He turned, but he glanced back, committing the image to memory as he said, “Thank you, Masters.”

* * *

When Obi-Wan arrived back on the ship, Satine could tell he wasn’t happy.

“You didn’t lose your duel, did you?” she teased.

He huffed a laugh, “No, Mace is far too impatient at this age. Funny, how I never thought of him as changing much over the years, but he does improve in time. He also was a frequent spar partner of mine, the advantage I had over him was truly unfair.”

“I hope you told him that,” she said, “and I hope it made it that much more of a blow to his ego when you beat him.”

“You could have come and watched,” he remarked, taking his seat in the co-pilot’s chair.

She tossed him a com and an ID, “I was a bit busy.”

He looked at the ID, she had kept his name the same and he asked, “Kamino?”

“Clones,” she said, “I know it won’t withstand much scrutiny but Kamino isn’t a part of the Republic nor are their records public. When our DNA comes up as being identical…”

He nodded, the N/A markers on parents wasn’t exactly uncommon, and if they were questioned, she was hoping it would draw more people’s attention to Kimino. 

“The more of the Sith secrets we reveal the harder it will be for them to act,” he noted.

She smiled, pulling them up into the atmosphere.

“How did you know how to do this?”

“There was always a chance, hells, there was a time, when we could have been political refugees. My father didn’t just give my siblings and me a backup plan. He taught us how to make our own backup plans.”

“Do you want to see your family?” Obi-Wan asked, “I thought that maybe we could make Mandalore our home base, rent or buy a doc, considering the ship you ‘found’ is big enough to be a home of its own. Plus, Mandalore is at the cross hairs of the hyperlanes.”

Her heart constricted, “I do want to see them, to know that they are alive, but I don’t want to assert myself into my younger self’s life. I don’t want my parents to know who I became.”

He touched her arm, “They would be proud of you, even knowing how it ended, Satine, they would be proud.”

She smiled at him sadly, “No, they wouldn’t. They would still love me, but they wouldn’t be proud of me.”

“Mandalore is still your home,” he said, knowing better than to argue with her, at least right then.

She shook her head, “Where do you want to go?”

“Wherever you are,” he said seriously.

She smacked his arm, “Quit teasing, where do we need to go?”

He sighed, looking out into space, “You aren’t going to like it, and I don’t want-”

“Spit it out, Kenobi,” she demanded.

“I had a vision.”

“Okay," she said, knowing this was going to be another adventure, and somewhat excited as she was no longer a public figure and her responsibilities were only the ones she chose to take on.  


He let out a long breath and looked at her, “I think we need to go to Mustafar.”

“Mustafar?” she repeated, “What could possibly be on Mustafar? Hardly anyone lives there.”

His face was cold as he said, “I have a hunch as to where Darth Maul might be.”

Satine stared at him, “We are back to days and you already are going to take your revenge?” It didn’t sound like him, but then again, aside from Dooku, who else was there to go after? Asajj Ventress? Was she even born yet?

But Obi-Wan shook his head, “No, I’m hoping we might find his Master, but nothing is ever that easy. So, no, not revenge. Darth Maul was younger than me, he might be nine or ten, maybe younger. I don’t know for sure that he will be safer on Dathomir, but I imagine it will be better than the life the Sith gave him.”

Satine laughed, shaking her head.

He frowned at her, “What? You realize how incredibly dangerous this idea is? I think we should go to Mandalore first and-”

She leaned over to kiss him and when she pulled back and said, “I never have to wonder why I love you.”

He raised a brow at her, “Because I don’t want to take revenge on our murderer?”

Her smile softened, “No, because you want to save him.”

His blue eyes sparkled, “Most would call me insane for that, love.”

She put Mustafar into the coordinates and said, “Well, good thing we aren’t most people.”

* * *

AN: Tiny Maul, anyone? Thoughts, ideas, desires, feedback, please?


End file.
